


Black Tie

by dametokillfor



Series: Suit and Tie [1]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-16
Updated: 2015-01-16
Packaged: 2018-03-07 19:41:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3180773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dametokillfor/pseuds/dametokillfor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Thranduil meets a mysterious stranger on the balcony.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Black Tie

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this sickening photo](http://i.imgur.com/Rz85RDl.png) of Luke's stupid everything.
> 
> This was originally going to be a Tumblr fic, however it got a bit out of control. I do feel this reads a little more like Luke trying to seduce Thranduil, but who are we to say Bard can't be this playful?

The people around Thranduil are driving him utterly insane. They’re yes men, people who only want to be around him for his status. They laugh at his jokes, agree with everything he asks for, he’s moments away from strangling the lot of them. 

His son stands across the other side of the room, begging him with his eyes not to hurt anybody. Thranduil’s own face makes no such promises. 

"Thrandy, you’re being so quiet!" A loud voice says, a hand makes its way to his chest.

Thranduil looks down at the large hand on his chest, his steely eyes look up at the culprit. He removes the hand, drops it unceremoniously, wishes for a moment he could lop it off the small, fat, hairy man it belongs to. 

"If you’ll excuse me, gentlemen, ladies, I must step outside for some air."

The fat man, Thranduil hadn’t worried himself with remembering the name of someone he has no desire to see ever again, calls after him, but Thranduil is gone.

He makes his way out of the ballroom, and heads out to one of the quiet balconies out of the way of the guests. He leans against the railing, closes his eyes and lets a sigh out to the heavens.

"Is it really all that bad?" 

“It truly is.” Thranduil tells the sky, annoyed that someone else has shown up to take his time, telling him how perfect he is, ask him moronic questions about his company. This is his home, how dare someone follow him to a private spot.

But he doesn’t recognise the voice, would remember a soft accent like that, a deep, pleasant lilting tone. 

He turns his head to the interloper and feels his breath stolen from his lungs. 

The man before him is stunning, he’s almost perfect. He’s tall, by most standards, but still stands a few inches shorter than Thranduil. The black suit he wears fits him like a glove, hugs every part of his lean body. The bow tie at his throat drawing attention to a long neck Thranduil already wants to mark. 

His eyes are dark, a mischievous spark in them, heightened by the slight smirk on his thin lips. There’s the faintest smattering of stubble across his face, a hint of a beard and a mustache, Thranduil would not be averse to feeling it against his own smooth face, thighs, stomach. His hair is slightly too long to be acceptable in this company, slicked back from his face. (Thranduil’s own long blonde braid is tolerated due to his immense wealth and status). 

Thranduil is already half in love. 

"What are you doing here? This part of the house was off limits for guests."

Thranduil also isn't willing to share that just yet. 

"Which is exactly how I knew it would be safe." The man says, without a hint of apology. 

Thranduil likes him even more. 

"What is your name?" He asks. 

The man lets out a laugh, before shaking his head, "My apologies. You're just the first person to ask me that tonight, to treat me like a stranger." 

Thranduil feels he's missing something fundamental here. 

"My God, you really don't know who I am?" 

The man doesn't sound put out, doesn't sound offended by Thranduil's ignorance. He's simply surprised. Pleasantly if Thranduil is reading him right. The man smiles at him. 

"That's refreshing. I could be anybody." 

"I doubt just anybody would be invited to an event like this." 

"True." The man agrees, pushing himself off the railing, approaching Thranduil, "But still. I could be a king of some far off land. Or I could be a humble bodyguard." 

"Though if everybody knows you, I doubt you would be a simple bodyguard " Thranduil takes a step away from the railing he's leaning against, deftly dodges the man's approach. 

The man smiles, points at Thranduil, "You have me there. Maybe an adventurer." 

He turns to face Thranduil head on again, "An adventurer who has unearthed beautiful jewels, invited here in hope I will share my wealth." 

"Doubtful." Thranduil tells him, "I would have been introduced to you by now." 

"Then maybe I am an intruder, everyone knows who I am because I shouldn't be here." He says, moving up into Thranduil's space, "I heard the great Thranduil was throwing a grand party for investors and business partners and I could not pass up a chance to get close to him." 

Thranduil wants to touch this man so badly, wants to lift his hands and feel the firm body, to feel his warm face. He wants to lean down and kiss this complete stranger. Thranduil moves a hairs breadth closer, as does the man before him, their lips are so close, he can feel the man's breath against his own mouth. 

"Dad, you can't hide out... Oh." 

Thranduil spins around to see Legolas stood in the doorway behind them. He doesn't trust himself to speak, lest the words come out wrong. He can feel the heat that was against him fading fast, the man has ducked away, darted off in a direction that Thranduil hadn't seen. His hands clench into fists. 

"I didn't realise you had company." Legolas says with a smirk. He saw the man, he knows who he is. Thranduil wants to beg him to tell him, but won't lower himself. 

He sighs softly before following his son back into the large house. Maybe he'll see his new friend inside, maybe he'll be willing to save him from the soul crushing boredom inside. 

\---x 

Thranduil's eyes are scanning the room. He tells himself that if there's someone important he needs to introduce himself to, he should keep an eye out. The fat man is back at his side, slapping Thranduil's chest, laughing obnoxiously about something Thranduil had clearly ignored. 

A silver tray is held by them, and the fat man's hands leave his chest and eagerly grab at the food. Thranduil waves the tray away, but it stays at his side. 

"Crab cake, sir?" A familiar voice asks. 

Thranduil's head snaps to the side so fast that his braid smacks the fat man in the face. The man from the balcony is stood, a serving platter in hand, and a smile on his face. 

Well.

This is most inconvenient. 


End file.
